


Smokey Quartz

by Lidsworth



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Fluff, One Shot, and Elrond and Elros just want them to be happy, i think Maglor gets sad a lot, mentions of amros and amrod, short fic, well so does Maedhros but he doesn't show it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:05:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8486902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lidsworth/pseuds/Lidsworth
Summary: Maglor plays his harp for Elrond and Elros, and consequently remembers Amrod and Amros. When the musician’s favorite past time is poisoned by distant memories, the twins do what little they can to cheer up their foster-father.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I got this from tumblr originally, after seeing a headcanon floating around and decided to post it on Ao3. The headcanon isn't mine nor is the idea, it belong to [everyone-loves-finrod](http://everyone-loves-finrod.tumblr.com/). I Just wrote it into a fic! Check out out on my [tumblr](http://inkstranger.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Title comes form the actual stone "Smokey Quartz" which draws in negative energy and purifies it. I meditate with one and wear it around my neck all the time, and I have to say it really does help! But yeah, I see the twins as Maglor and Maedhros's own smokey quartz.

It wasn’t exactly hard for the twins to understand how certain, small comforts could be poisoned by time and realization—how certain pastimes and hobbies one clung to for normality could suddenly transform into a void that ate up what little happiness said action provided.

The same had happened with the twins and Earendil’s star in the evening sky. What had originally been a source of hope and comfort (for they truly believed, in their ignorance, that their parents would return to them) had turned into a gut wrenching sensation in their stomachs, more often than not forcing them to tear their gazes away from the starlit sky and come to terms with harsh reality.  

Both Elrond and Elros supposed that the same could be said for Maglor, who often turned towards his music for comfort and solace. However, today was different. Today he could not even finish his composition without erupting into a nervous fit of tears.

Neither twin knew _exactly_ why he was crying, only knew that somehow and someway the thing he loved had suddenly become the thing that he hated.

And oh, how both Elrond and Elros could relate.

They supposed, the boys, that in order to eradicate what evil had been attached to his hobby, new memories were necessary to be made (they had done the same, associated the Silmaril in the sky with the Feanorians).

Thus chubby fingers grasped onto the thin strings of the instrument, plucking the harp at odd and sour angles (Elrond had never learned to play, Elros more so. Both had been too nervous to ask Maglor to teach them).

With eyes darker than Maedhros’s hair, Maglor looked towards both Elrond and Elros in both shock and sorrow. He knew exactly what they were doing.

“You need not comfort me children, my suffering is my own and not to be burdened on your shoulders,” he said gently as he grabbed for his harp. Though together, the twins yanked it away, just out of arm’s length.

“Do you not comfort us when we cry? Or sing us to sleep when we have nightmares?”

“And more!” Elros added.  
“And more,” repeated Elrond as he looked towards his twin, than back to his foster-father.

Maglor had known this, but he never thought that the children considered it as deeply as they did now.

“We don’t know why you are upset, Ada, but we know that you used to play music to make yourself happy, and now it has made you sad. We understand that,” Elrond explained, as usual, with more wisdom normal for a child of his age.

“So let us help you please?” Elros came from beside his brother, reluctant to relinquish his grip on the harp.

Wrestling his instrument from the hands of two determined twins would prove futile in the end. He had known, for Amrod and Amros had done the exact same thing. And he supposed there was no sense in dwelling over the past, not when Elrond and Elros were trying to right what had been come in the past.  

“Very well boys,” with a quick sniffle, Maglor cleared his throat and sat up straight, “But we won’t cheer up with the two of you playing like that. Here, let me help you…”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Please comment and tell me what you think of it! I'm always nervous with my writing abilities and wrote this in like 10 minutes. If you wanna talk or request a headcanon or fic, check out my [tumblr](http://inkstranger.tumblr.com/)!


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